


for the sake of not being lonely

by miss_tatiana



Series: poe party but gay [1]
Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F, I love these lesbians, also rip this is such a rarepair, poe party is so gay im just writing what we all need, sort of an au because of who lives/who dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_tatiana/pseuds/miss_tatiana
Summary: au where George Eliot isn't killed, and instead of ignoring Emily until her death, Poe and his party attendees place her in the care of George. George tries to calm Emily down enough to talk to the group about who the murderer she saw was through a mixture of flirting, oversharing, promising her safety, and an almost kiss.





	for the sake of not being lonely

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this within 24 hours of starting and finishing the show rip anyways i love emily dickinson and her butch gf george eliot

“So. You saw the killer.” Mary offered Emily a hand and helped her back to her feet. Poe and the others had embarked on the now routine trip down to the cellar, toting the body of Krishanti. They had left her, after some debate, to look after the witness that could lead them to solving the mystery. Despite several of the dinner attendees not knowing who Emily was, Mary had been observing her all night, in a mixture of fear - often in novels the quiet ones are the killers - and admiration - she was beautiful in a way that made Mary blush. 

“She was- right in front of me,” Emily breathed, pressing a hand to her forehead. Her eyes were stuck to the spot where the psychic’s body had fell. She blinked, shook her head slightly. “Right, the killer. He was tall, he had these gloves on, and-”

“No, no, no.” Mary guided her into a guest room off the hall. “Don't worry yourself over a description now, you need to have a minute to settle down and get your wits back. And take your time. Witnessing a murder is no small throwaway occurrence, Emily.” Mary hoped that the rest of the party would stay safe, at least until she gave Emily the time to calm down and reveal the murderer. 

A smile spread across Emily’s face. “You remembered my name,” she said, looking down into her lap. “None of the others remembered my name.”

“I’m just being a gentleman, Em.” Mary shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “May I call you Em?”

“If you must,” Emily answered, and she was still smiling. 

Mary nodded sharply. “Now, take a deep breath, collect your thoughts, and we’ll wait it out here for the others to get to us.” If they get to us, she thought, but she wouldn’t say it out loud. Emily was shaken up as it was. There was no need for another reason to panic. 

The smile faded from Emily’s face. “But what if the killer-”

“No need to worry about that,” Mary promised. “You’ve got a-” She pressed the mustache, which was losing its adherence, firmly back against her upper lip. “-a big strong man to protect you.”

“Oh, George, please,” Emily said, folding her hands in her lap. “You don’t really think you’re fooling any of us, do you?”

“Uh- I- what-” Mary stammered, hands fluttering between her hat and mustache and back again. She tried to organize her thoughts and get ahold of a clever way to respond. She scoffed. “I don’t catch your drift, miss.”

“I have a distrust for men,” Emily continued, her voice gentle. “In this house, under these circumstances, I would not feel safe if I were under the protection of a man, and yet I feel safe now.”

Mary blew out a breath. “What gave it away? Was it the hat? I know I should have gone with a wider brim…” She pulled it off her head and looked down at it. 

“Not the hat.” Emily shook her head. “The excessive talk of sporting, perhaps, or your height, or that ridiculous mustache.” A smile again touched her face. 

“I really do like sporting,” Mary said, under her breath. She looked up at Emily. “Don’t tell the others, especially not Ernest. I’d never hear the end of it, and I have a reputation to uphold.”

“As you wish,” Emily said. “But George-”

“Mary,” Mary inserted. “Mary Anne.”

“But Mary,” Emily amended, “I want you to know that I still trust you to keep me safe.”

Mary nodded, adjusted her jacket, and stared at a fixed point on the ground for a moment, unsure of how to respond formally. “Thank you, Em.”

“You remembered my name- you remembered me, which most of these people can’t seem to do. And you're staying with me.” Emily shrugged. “You even gave me a cute nickname. I don’t mind that you’re not a man. Not at all. 

Mary chanced a smile, just a brief one, before pressing on, although her chest felt full with a nervous gratification that she couldn’t explain. “Listen, I’m not trying to scare you, but the killer, whoever they are, is going to be looking for you. You know their identity, so you’re probably at the top of their list. We’ve got to be careful, and-”

“You’re not leaving me alone, are you?” A look of worry spread across Emily’s face. 

Mary shook her head, confused. “No, why-”

“You just made it sound like I’d have to be alone,” Emily explained quickly, relief on her voice. “I know he’ll be after me. But I’ll be fine as long as I’m with you.” 

Mary raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got that right, miss.” The sentiment made her feel so strong, so capable. And, emboldened by a mixture of the possibility of their deaths, Emily’s faith in her, and Emily’s hint at her distaste for men, she took Emily’s hand and pulled her closer. 

Emily pushed some of her hair out of her face, and looked shy but pleased. She leaned down, towards Mary. 

The door banged open. 

Mary whirled around to face it, fists up, and Emily let out a tiny scream before covering her mouth with a hand and jumping away from Mary. 

“A clue as to who you saw drop the ghost whisperer would be nice.” Ernest was leaning against the doorframe, flask out in one hand. 

Mary sighed, rubbing her face and slipping back into her gruffer voice. “Christ, man, I thought you were-” 

“Uh, the killer?” Ernest glared at her. “Guess again. Is Edna ready to talk?”

“Emily,” Mary spat, at the same time as Emily said, “Yes.” 

Ernest nodded. “Everyone’s downstairs in the dining room waiting for you, let’s go.” He snapped his fingers and led the way down the hallway and to the stairs. “By the way, George, your mustache is a little crooked. Might want to fix that.” 

Mary’s hand flew up to her lip, and she touched the mustache. It felt near ready to fall off, and she started to fuss with it, trying to get it to lie believably straight. 

“Might we pick up where we left off, if we ever get out of this house alive?” Emily whispered, walking over to fall into step beside Mary. 

They trailed behind Ernest, who slowly led the way down to the dining room. 

Mary looked over to her, shocked at her forwardness. She hoped the smile that rose to her lips was becoming rather than goofy. “Definitely,” she said. “Now I have all the more reason to make it through the night. But- may I ask why? Why me?”

“You’re kind to me- you’re very brave, and very easy on the eyes. I like you,” Emily admitted. “And I am sick of being lonely.”

“Well then, Em,” Mary said, feeling almost too flustered to speak and trying desperately to keep the conversation out of Ernest’s hearing range. She held out her hand, and waited until Emily took it. “Let’s stay alive tonight, for the sake of not being lonely.” 

**Author's Note:**

> spoiler alert they survive and live happily ever after.  
> come talk to me @belkittykelly on tumblr bc i live for gay poe party stuff


End file.
